


Icarus

by von_gelmini



Series: MCU Kink Bingo Round 4 [6]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bondage, College Age Peter Parker, Japanese Rope Bondage, M/M, Rope Bondage, Shibari, They're in the Malibu house because I like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23085094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/von_gelmini/pseuds/von_gelmini
Summary: Beyond the quiet music, there was nothing but their breaths, the soft pad of Tony’s feet as he circled Peter’s body, and the sound of the ropes.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: MCU Kink Bingo Round 4 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632193
Comments: 6
Kudos: 71
Collections: MCU Kink Bingo Round 4





	Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> For MCU Kink Bingo Round 4  
> Square - Shibari

It was hypnotic, the repeated soft sound that the ropes made sliding against each other.

It was engrossing, the way Tony’s fingers twisted and wrapped the cords around him.

There was soft music playing in the background. Nothing distinctively a song or even recognizable as a purposeful composition. Tony told him that it actually was a purposeful composition. “As ignorable as it is interesting,” he said, as the composer had intended it. It was ambient, soothing, melodic tones.

Beyond the quiet music, there was nothing but their breaths, the soft pad of Tony’s feet as he circled Peter’s body, and the sound of the ropes.

Tony doesn’t tell Peter how to move. The silence is maintained. He guides him into his next position. His hands hold there, long enough for Peter to know that he’s supposed to stay that way. He does and the ropes begin wrapping around his left leg, pulling his knee bent, his heel pressing against the back of his thigh. His foot points his toes toward the rise of his ass. The knots form on the outside of the crease of his leg’s fold. Red, red, gold, red, gold, red red. 

There’s a pattern there, but Peter can’t see it. He won’t see unless Tony shows him what he looks like in a mirror. Even then, he won’t see the entirety of the pattern until he sees the recording. Even  _ then…  _ he’ll never see what Tony sees, the image of him that he has in his eye. He’ll never know what Tony finds that’s beautiful in him. There’s a pattern there, but Peter can’t see it.

Soft breaths, soft ropes, soft music. Calloused fingers deftly weaving threads of actual gold around the rope Tony pulled Peter’s ankle up with. Tying the length to the hook from the ceiling that already holds his opposite arm into the position Tony’s tied it. Opposite leg and arm are free, but that won’t be for long.

Tony guides Peter’s left arm down in front of his body in a delicate curve, an almost ballet-like position. The first rope, a thin five-strand flat braid — red red gold red red — wraps around his ball sac, distending them, then sliding between them, separating. Just below his cock, he brings the braid up to Peter’s wrist and leaves it draped there for the moment. A broader, flatter braid of nine strands — gold red gold gold red gold gold red gold — wraps around his cock, now erect. 

He splits the braid just underneath the head and joins it to the braid from his balls. Unlike the work on his left leg and right arm, this is delicate, tedious work. Tony’s fingers move expertly, the way they do when he’s working a wiring harness into his armor. The final, joined braid, he turns into an intricate patterned bracelet that pulls his erection up the length of his body, the tip of his cock touching the edge of his wrist, his balls pulled up at the base. Peter would need to see it from an angle other than looking straight down, but there seems to be something classic about the position.

The bracelet braid is split again and worked over his hand, between his fingers. Tony weaves it into the end of one of the thicker red ropes. Meeting the ones from his left leg, he knots them around his waist. Then they wrap flat around his stomach in a diamond pattern, making a waist cinching corset. Tony looks up into Peter’s face for the first time since he started, and he smiles just before bending and pressing a light kiss to the exposed head of Peter’s cock. The silence is broken by a breathy moan.

More of the thicker ropes are gathered and knotted into a flying harness designed to comfortably support Peter’s weight when the final work on his right leg is completed. Ropes are left hanging, not yet worked into their final design. Strong threads of gold are tangled into Peter’s curly chestnut hair. The harness provides the red as the golden metal thread coming from Peter’s hair is wrapped around it. Tony gives a gentle tug to make sure that the pressure is evenly distributed and no one area will pull. 

Peter’s right leg is wrapped in a pattern that leaves large areas of skin exposed, yet along the back of his leg. The knots are tightly together in a straight line from Peter’s ass to his ankle. The thickest rope is woven through the splint of knots and brought to join the harness.

When Peter is raised off the ground, there is no discomfort. His weight is evenly carried throughout the entire pattern. One leg bent, the other extended. One arm angled sharply behind his back, the other curved gently across his front. His head is held up so he looks forward instead of down. He flies like an angel without wings.

Tony runs his hands over Peter’s body. Caressing every inch from extended pointed toes to cup his cheek. He kisses Peter deeply, passionately. Pulling on the thick rope, the kiss is broken by Peter rising away from him, far above the workshop, almost to the ceiling. With a remote, he directs pinpoints of sharp bright light, creating shadows and highlights. 

Peter can’t see below him. He can’t see down the length of his body. Only straight forward out the high clerestory windows that look out on the ocean. He has no idea what he looks like until Tony tells him.

“So beautiful, baby,” Tony says, his voice low and reverent. Peter can hear a low murmur after, as Tony directs JARVIS’ camera angles.

“Are you doing okay?” he asks.

Peter’s tightly held and his body thrums with the rush of endorphins. His eyes are unfocused, his lips parted, his breaths heavy and carry soft moans of pleasure.

“Yes, Tony,” he answers in a dreamy, distant tone.

“Baby, focus, beautiful. Listen to my voice. Come down from heaven and hear me.” He pauses. He can’t see Peter’s face, the one drawback to the pose, but he can see the way his body responds. Instead of lying there, stretched out and supported by the ropes, his body carrying none of its own weight, floating too lightly, Peter returns and, while not tense, he is holding himself as he was tied. “Are you okay, Peter?” Tony asks again.

“A little bit longer?” Peter asks. He can see the ocean. And he flies above it.

Tony smiles. “Just a little.” He gives Peter another three minutes in the air. “Time to return to earth, baby.” Slowly, he starts to lower the thick rope. “Time to come back to me.”

On the ground again, balanced on his right leg, Tony holds Peter up as he pulls carefully placed ropes that were woven in, designed to untie. He supports Peter’s body with his arm around his chest as his left leg is untied and joins his right, standing on the ground. As he’s untied, Peter whimpers sadly.

“I know baby,” Tony croons softly. “I have you.” He finishes untying his work. When all that is left are the beautiful golden threads, woven loosely now, in Peter’s hair, he lifts the boy in his arms. He carries Peter over to the sofa and sits, pulling him into his lap, holding him close, gently caressing his body. His fingers work over the formerly bound muscles, massaging. 

Peter nestles into the crook of Tony’s neck for a long time, feeling his warmth, breathing in his scent. Shudders work through him and he clings tighter to the solidness of Tony’s body. He flew so high above the ocean. Wrapped in the ropes that held him to Tony, no matter how far away he went. Tony surrounded him. 

Kissing Peter lightly, Tony brings him back. He starts to undo the last threads that held his beautiful boy.

“Can I wear them a little longer?” Peter asks. “I want to see the sun still in my hair.”

Tony nuzzled his face against the side of Peter’s head. “Of course, baby. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.” A long stretch of just holding Peter slips by. “Was that okay this time?”

“Oh god Tony. It was perfect,” Peter sighed.

“Mmm. I’m glad.” He smiled and put a kiss on Peter’s temple. “I built a frame. I want to take you down to the beach below the cliff.”

“Oh!” The thought sends another shudder through Peter. “We can do that?” He lifts his face out of Tony’s neck and looks at the man, excitement in his eyes.

“Yes, now that I know the pattern will support you, I can actually fly you out over the ocean next time.” He carefully runs his fingers through Peter’s hair and the gold threads in it. “You can watch the sunset and I can see its fire in your hair.” Tony was still overwhelmed by how beautiful Peter had looked. “You can be my Icarus.”

“Will you build me wings? Work them into the design?”

“Anything you want baby,” Tony said tenderly. “You just have to always fly home to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> My Starker blog on tumblr is [starker-stories](https://starker-stories.tumblr.com/).  
> Come on by and visit.


End file.
